"Yes, to be sure I am. I love and esteem you, because honest
folks are so rare. But it seems you have come back rich, my
boy," continued the tailor, looking askance at the handful
of gold and silver which Dantes had thrown on the table.

The young man remarked the greedy glance which shone in the
dark eyes of his neighbor. "Eh," he said, negligently. "this
money is not mine. I was expressing to my father my fears
that he had wanted many things in my absence, and to
convince me he emptied his purse on the table. Come, father"
added Dantes, "put this money back in your box -- unless
neighbor Caderousse wants anything, and in that case it is
at his service."

"No, my boy, no," said Caderousse. "I am not in any want,
thank God, my living is suited to my means. Keep your money
-- keep it, I say; -- one never has too much; -- but, at the
same time, my boy, I am as much obliged by your offer as if
I took advantage of it."

"It was offered with good will," said Dantes.

"No doubt, my boy; no doubt. Well, you stand well with M.
Morrel I hear, -- you insinuating dog, you!"

"M. Morrel has always been exceedingly kind to me," replied
Dantes.

"Then you were wrong to refuse to dine with him."